Survivalism
by SuccumbDefeat
Summary: Heero is a photojournalist, trying to document the tensions between the World Government and an armed rebellion, known as Ragnarok. Yet he becomes ensnared in the conflict after meeting one man. 2x1.
1. The Fray

He fought through the crowd of the protest, trying to keep his footing while pushing forward, shielding his camera with his forearm. The camera's strap hung around his neck, suspending it over his chest. The press of the mob he was amidst was becoming unbearable; space between individuals was rapidly vanishing. Tension was swelling, a hot urgency was manifested, spreading over the people. Screams and shouts were deafening, yet if one concentrated a steady infuriated chant could be heard, "Justice for humanity, we are all citizens of the World!" The swarm of protestors was becoming agitated as their march spilled into the streets.

In the middle of the protestors, Heero stumbled. They were being rough with him, pushing and pulling at him. He was conspicuous, it was apparent he was not apart of them, wearing blue jeans, a green sweater, and tan jacket. His conservative attire was juxtaposed with militaristic clothing, camouflage, gas-masks, hoods, and bandanas tied around faces. Heero took a solid stance, raising his camera, snapping a few shots. He was about thirty yards away from the front-line, where a wall of police stood armored in full riot-gear. His thoughts overlooked his safety; he was desperate to get a glimpse. The young photo journalist was positive that getting up there could get the shot, a photo that would be at least published, if not on the front page.

Struggling through the mass of people, he was relentless, maneuvering through fray. Everyone seemed to be trying to push forward. Bodies obstructed him everywhere but Heero forcefully advanced. The noise around him impossibly got louder. Ten yards before him was the barricade, the crush of people was keenly oppressive almost suffocating. Heero could go no further. He reached for his camera when the megaphone sounded. "Attention. Everyone must vacant this area immediately or face arrest." As the warning echoed in the streets, a Molotov cocktail hurled through the air overhead, crashing in a fiery explosion on a squad car. Several policemen recoiled as clamor of cheers came from the threatening mob. Heero deftly focused the camera and aimed its lens, capturing the violence. The police organized offensively.

Abruptly, a volley of tear gas canisters launched into the mass of protestors, immediately smoking noxious chemicals on impact. In an instant, the pull of people reversed in a frantic effort to escape the clouds of gas. Heero was not prepared for the violent shift, still clicking his camera, he was thrown back. Slamming into the pavement, Heero tried to get to his feet. But his efforts were thwarted; a constant rush of panicked people ran past him, tripping over him, stepping on him. Direly, he attempted to protect his camera. The gas billowed over him, stinging his eyes, choking him.

A man barreled towards him, all Heero could see were his feet moving rapidly towards him. Heero recoiled, preparing to be trampled over. Suddenly, someone firmly gripped his shoulder, roughly jerking Heero off up the ground.

"Run!" the man demanded. Heero faltered, he was blinded by the gas, and inhaling in the chemicals spurred him to hack. He could barely breathe. Heero's hand was snatched up, retained tightly in another's. Heero was imperiously being led; his feet were forced to run as he was pulled. The camera bounced off his chest as he tried to keep up. They were slamming into people, fighting through the mayhem. Heero griped the hand tightly. His blurred vision could over make out a silhouette of the man urging him forward. In a gray haze, the tear gas spread hysteria. The protesters outcry of fury and indignation was replaced with pain and panic. Automatic guns sounded and screams ensued, Heero flinched.

"This way!" the man instructed his voice barely audible over the commotion. Their direction abruptly changed. People were becoming sparse. They sped into an alleyway, their footfalls reverberating off the walls of the side street. Heero's hand was released. The man spun around to regard him, donning goggles and a bandana covering his mouth. He wore a faded green military jacket, in black stitching over the breast of the jacket read, "Death." Heero squinted, trying to focus his vision, swiping the tears from his eyes. The man removed his goggles and lowered his bandana. He confidently smiled at Heero. He looked older than Heero, by several years. Heero noted the man's lengthy hair held back in a loose braid. As Heero studied the man who helped him, he was taken by piercing cobalt-colored eyes which stared back at him.

"That was fucking close. You're lucky I saw you, kid." He announced casually.

"Yeah. Thanks." Heero replied lowly.

"Call me Duo." He spoke amiably. Heero nodded, standing before him awkwardly.

Duo eyed him, and crossed his arms. "We're not safe here. C'mon." the older man spoke, his tone more stoic. Duo surveyed their surroundings and proceeded to a fire escape, beginning to ascend the metal ladder. Heero tarried, glancing at the street where they came from, still obscured in gray fog, emitting sounds of violence and disorder. Heero followed Duo, climbing ladder after ladder until reaching the roof. Swinging his leg over the edge, Heero saw Duo speaking into a handheld transmitter. Regarding him curiously, Heero could not hear what was being spoken. From the rooftop, the plumes of tear gas drifted upward, dissipating into the atmosphere. Automatic gunfire roared again.

Indifferently, Heero approached the edge of the roof facing the street. Visible were the wounded sprawled upon the cement, people still fleeing, staggering from the gas, and a formation of police clearing the street, arresting stragglers. He aimed his camera, adjusting the focus for his new lofty vantage point, capturing the aftermath of the protest. Heero heard him approach and stand next to him, remaining silent.

"Heero. That's my name if that is what you were going to ask." Heero said, his camera obscuring his face. Duo emitted an airy chuckle.

"I suppose I was going to ask sooner or later." Duo admitted, admiring the younger man, his sharp features and wild dark hair. Duo continued, "Are you working for a paper or freelance? I doubt these are for art class – but on second thought, you never know."

Heero lowered his camera, and faced Duo who was several inches taller than him. "Freelance, but I will get hired soon." Heero insisted self-assured.

"Maybe. If you don't get yourself killed first," Duo taunted causing Heero to frown. He had been foolhardy; his body ached from being stepped on and kicked, nearly trampled. Heero lowered his eyes, gazing over the city streets.

"Are your friends all right?" Heero inquired evenly. Duo raised an eyebrow.

"More or less," Duo replied sluggishly. He leered at the younger man, a pang of guilt smeared over his appreciation of Heero's trim body and deep blue eyes. Duo shook his head and sighed before lightly asserting, "Be more careful, okay?" Heero gave Duo a distant sidelong glance.

"Okay." Heero solemnly answered. Duo smiled and shoved his hands into the pockets of his green canvas jacket. He began to walk away; Heero turned to watch him go.

"Stay up here till the pigs are gone." Duo advised as he drew near the fire escape. Climbing down the ladder, Duo paused and focused on Heero who was staring back at him. Duo grinned, and cheerfully spoke, "See you around, Heero."

Heero remained in stance as Duo descended. After several moments Heero jogged to the ledge, scanning the streets for Duo. Heero never saw Duo walk away.


	2. Gray Haze

"New idea, we're going win the hearts and minds of the citizens." Duo announced self-assured as he dropped the heavy newspaper, jarring the table where Trowa and Hilde were sitting. They both eyed Duo skeptically. Hilde grabbed the paper, scanning the front page. A large image portrayed riot-geared police banishing assault rifles, facing a mob of protestors in a haze of tear-gas. The bold and capitalized headline read: "Police Protect Citizens from Rebels." Hilde tossed the paper aside, awaiting the leader of Ragnarok to explain.

"I met the guy who took those photos. I want to meet up with him again, and show him the slums." Duo mentioned causally.

"Why? With a headline like that it's useless." Hilde criticized, her tone hinting at dejection.

"To show people all the bullshit of the government, how they fucking oppress those who aren't citizens. We need to show their lives, the reason why we are fighting. Seeing how they are forced to live could make people understand. It's harder to lie with pictures." Duo defended firmly, his conviction steadfast.

"But not impossible." Trowa interjected soberly, his facial features asserting challenge. Duo crossed his arms, and scoffed. Trowa proceeded undaunted, "Besides, how could we trust him?"

"He's a kid. I can handle him." Duo affirmed sincerely, his gaze falling to his feet for a moment. Trowa's brow lifted subtly as he studied Duo.

"Oh." Trowa stated flatly. He knew Duo all too well; being lovers for seven years gave him a keen insight. He could detect the subtext, the faint intrigue Duo felt for this young photographer. Duo idly glanced elsewhere from Trowa's scrutiny, feeling the burden of judgment under his stare. They had spent their twenties together, living with each other. For awhile Duo could not imagine himself with anyone else. However, their relationship ended two years ago, efforts for the rebellion had siphoned away their affection. Love seemed trivial when your freedom was taken. Violence had jaded them. Though when Duo excessively drank, he would slink to Trowa's apartment in the middle of the night, searching for sex. He was never denied.

"It couldn't hurt." Duo concluded before he nonchalantly exited Ragnarok headquarters, a dilapidated basement of a dive bar on the outskirts of the city.

Heero entered his apartment; it was cold and sparsely furnished, looking as if no one resided there. The orange glow from the street lights crept between the blinds, sweeping the shadows back. Flicking on the light, he indifferently approached the blinking red light on his answering machine. Removing his wallet and keys from his pockets, he listened aloofly to the robotic voice announcing he had one unheard message.

"It's your sister. I just wanted to congratulate you on the getting the front page. I'm proud of you. When my schedule clears up, let's get dinner to celebrate. Okay, bye, I love you." The recorded message filled the austere apartment with the voice of Relena, his older step-sister. She was a pediatrician, causing his step-father to hold her in utmost esteem, stealing any hope of Heero to earn approval. Heero was not afflicted with the matter, his mother and Relena had always been fiercely supportive and loving for his twenty years of life.

Sequestered in his apartment, he sat his desk, idly mulling over the brutal images he had captured and presented to the public domain. His body ached, bruises colored his skin in too many places. Languidly Heero swept a hand through his hair, a faint sigh escaping his lips as he reclined into the chair. He felt accomplished, but considered the congratulations to be inappropriate. Being praised for documenting grievous inhumanity immensely saddened Heero.

The phone shrilled, suddenly destroying the silence. Heero slowly lidded his eyes and decided to let the phone ring. Countless rings sounded before he heard his answering message dully announce, "Heero Yuy. Leave a message." The speaker buzzed, indicting a large amount of background noise, before a familiar voice spoke.

"Hey buddy. It's your pal Duo. --" Heero intently regarded the phone, and proceeded to pick up the receiver.

"How did you get my number?" He asked bluntly.

"Took some effort, I had to lay on the charm on a receptionist at that newspaper of yours. I really don't care for its articles. I'm more interested in your photos." Duo kindly explained with natural ease.

"Okay." He replied, pausing before inquiring concisely, "What do you want?"

"Listen, I want to take you somewhere so I can put you and your camera to work. You game tomorrow?" The older man's voice subtly laced with his enthusiasm.

"I'm in." Heero spoke resolute without considering any consequence. After agreeing upon a time, Heero divulged his address.

"See you later, pal." Duo said through a smile and then the call was disconnected. Heero slowly placed the receiver back upon its cradle. Fascination was ignited, gradually uncoiling in Heero's mind.

In the dead of night, the noise from the street traffic had subsided. Heero lay in bed, unable to be swayed by sleep. Heero's gaze was focused on the ceiling. His thoughts would not quiet; rather they whispered to him in the dark, musing about the man who helped him, potentially saving his life. Three people died in that fray, allegedly all had antagonized the police through violence. He did not know what to believe, except that he escaped only mildly scathed and was able to complete his task. Aggravated by his inability to fall asleep, he rolled on his side, pulling the sheets with his body, and closed his eyes. Blackness turned to the gray haze, he envisioned Duo urging him forward, running, the grip of their hands tight. Abruptly Duo stopped, pivoting to face Heero, smiling sadly. They stood staring at one another, alone in the grey fog. Heero took hesitant steps forward, standing before the older and taller man. Hastily Duo was alerted, gaping past Heero. Heero turned, witnessing soldiers of the World Government charging at them, raising their assault rifles. The rapid crack of gunfire jolted him awake, his skin sweaty and the bedding tangled around his body. Glancing to the alarm clock, the time of 4:29 a.m. glowed.

* * *

Heart.


	3. Faltering Under a Stare

Trowa sat morose at the bar, perched gracefully on the stool. Despite the early afternoon sun bleeding through the gritty windows, Trowa had placed a bottle of chartreuse and lowball glass before him. The liquor, caustic yet sweet, was the same rich color of his eyes. He heard the stairs creak as Duo quickly descended from the small room above the bar, barely big enough to fit his bed. Duo walked the length of the bar, wearing his military fatigue jacket and a black brimmed cap. Striding nonchalantly past Trowa, who sat sipping the 110 proof alcohol. The glass smacked on the bar top, and Trowa asked standoffish, "How do you know he's not a nark?"

Duo halted, glancing at Trowa who had poised the question without regarding him. An upsurge of anger smeared over Duo's demeanor, narrowing his eyes.

"God damnit Trowa, don't you dare question me again. I am sick of your bullshit." Duo spat, waiting for a fight, indignant his leadership was being contested. Hilde perked at the raised voice. But Trowa remained silent, staring aimlessly at the mirror over the bar as he picked up his glass, swirling the liquor before bringing it to his lips once more. A contemptuous smile stretched over Duo's mouth. His anger dissipating, Duo exited. Hilde frowned as the door closed, and looked over to Trowa.

Walking towards him, she asked ruefully, "Why don't you trust him anymore?" Trowa stubbornly remained unresponsive. She emitted a frustrated sigh, before returning to her work of drying glasses.

* * *

Heero eyed the time presented on the lower right corner of the computer screen. He stood from his desk chair, walking to the closet, gathering a gray hooded sweatshirt and black sneakers. Pulling the sweat shirt over his head ruffled his hair. He proceeded to sit on his couch, tying the laces of his sneakers. The jeans he was wearing were worn and threadbare at the knees. Heero went to mirror in the bathroom, staring aloofly at his reflection. He swiped a hand through his hair, and guessed his attire was adequate, hoping to go unnoticed.

Heero could not meet his own gaze as he considered Duo briefly and the vivid dream that haunted his sleep. They had died, gunned down in the street. Heero overlooked the sense of dread the dream imposed, deeming it meaningless, the simple firing of synapses in his brain. He walked to his desk and secured his camera bag over his chest, and tucked his keys and wallet into the pockets of his jeans.

The sidewalk was bustling before the apartment building, a flow of people passed Heero at varying speeds. He surveyed those surrounding him, and easily noticed the man who crept into his dreams. He was leaned effortlessly on a phone booth, chatting carelessly into a cell phone, his face obscured by the brim of his hat. Heero recognized the green canvas jacket, naming him death. As Heero approached, Duo strolled past him. Heero lifted his brow in confusion.

"I'm telling you, that woman doesn't like me. You don't want to be seen with me." Duo spoke intent of his conversation. Chuckling before adding, "Just follow my lead, I'll get you a date with her" as he steadily strode down the span of the sidewalk. Intrigue piqued in Heero as he began to pursue the older man at a slow pace, remaining several steps behind. His eyes observed the lush hair confined by lengthy braid as he followed. Duo removed the phone from his ear, it was unnecessary to end the call. There had been no call. Heero was led to a crowded bus stop for the 71 line. Duo slid up to front of the group, closest to where the bus door would be.

The 71 lead you to the slums. During college, Heero's peers had joked about the run down area, almost bragging about all the danger, drugs, and prostitutes that could be found in that district. To his knowledge, all those who spoke about it never ventured to the outskirts of the city. The brakes of the bus screeched as the large vehicle abruptly stopped, people already were pushing towards the doors, refusing to wait for those to get off.

Heero tarried as he dug change for bus fair from his pocket. He pushed body through the crush to guarantee the bus would not leave without him. The bus was entirely crowded, the array of people huddled awkwardly in the small space were indescribable, varying incredibly. Swaying in motion, the bus reentered traffic. Heero faltered standing in the packed aisle with nothing to steady him.

It struck Heero suddenly, the possibility of being pick-pocketed. His hand snaked down to cradle his camera bag, containing his livelihood. The expensive and delicate piece of machinery was sentimental to him, a part of him, and would be an immense hardship to replace. Seamlessly with his fretting thoughts, Heero was jostled from behind, another body leaning into him.

"Oh, pardon me." Duo said quietly, looking down upon Heero's face, grinning. Heero was distracted by the allure of his features, a spark jolted through his body, feeling the weight of the other man's frame, shielding his camera and wallet. Heero diverted his gaze, chagrined for being captivated by the gentle yet confident ease of Duo. The bus lurched to a stop.

"Excuse me, buddy. This is my stop." Duo announced causally, as he discreetly smeared a hand over the small of Heero's back. Heero nodded, going after Duo, sliding through the wall of people.

Stepping from the bus, Heero paused, taking stance to absorb his surroundings. The neighborhood was grave, appearing menacing but ultimately exuding an overwhelming sense of misery. Shattered glass and trash decorated the pavement. The shabby buildings towered over the sidewalks, foreboding and sullen. Walls were coated with intricate graffiti, a collage of color and design. With a sweeping glance it was apparent human strive was the muse of the spray-painted markings. "Ragnarok Lives" and "Fuck the World Government" were the most prevalent slogans scrawled on the buildings. He simply reacted, quick hands removed his camera. The shutter snapped, the lens capturing the essence of the sullen neighborhood. Heero was stirred by a sharp whistle, aligning his head with the sound, he noticed Duo stalking away. He replaced the camera safely in his satchel, and jogged to catch up.

The pair maneuvered the neighborhood. Heero often paused to take photos, Duo standing close, vigilant and protective. They continued their path, walking steady and silent. Duo perceived a soft flick of a lighter.

"Don't smoke. It's a bitch to quit. Besides, it hurts your stamina in the sack." Duo advised as turned to face Heero, affirming there was a cigarette placed to his lips. Heero exhaled smoke, eyeing the older man, miffed and defensive.

"I have no trouble performing." Heero ensured resolute, inhaling the smoke laced with harsh chemicals, and the desired nicotine. Duo produced hearty laugh.

"You're young. I'd hope you have no problem pleasing the ladies." He stated to Heero straightforward, testing him.

"That's none of your business." Heero replied terse and firmly headstrong. Duo was indulged by his youthful conviction and blissful ignorance, qualities that had been waning quickly in his own temperament.

Heero finished his cigarette before they arrived to a dilapidated housing project, lines of cable stretched from countless windows, hanging articles of clothes and bedding, appearing sad with no wind to sway them. Duo entered the building, beckoning the younger man to follow. Cries of children, angry yells, and loud music converged in the stairwell, echoing as they climbed five stories. Advancing through the hallway, people and children spilled from their apartments. Their loiter interrupted as Heero passed, pausing to burden him with their scrutiny. Duo took stance before a door, and regarded Heero as he spoke.

"I've already talked to Cathy. Take as many pictures of her and her kids. But none of me, I'm serious, kid." His instructions were somber. Heero nodded under Duo's stare. Duo knocked on the wood, instantly the door swung open wide. Three children no older than eight rushed out, tackling him, their slight weight unable to jar Duo's stance. They all happily cried Duo's name, causing a large sentimental smile to curve the corners of his mouth. A woman stood behind the door, painfully slender, wavy auburn hair framing her gaunt face.

"Come in please. I'm Catherine, thanks for coming." She welcomed Heero in, and proceeded to lightly scold her children for climbing on Duo, and tugging at his braid.

"Aw, it's fine Cathy. They are just having fun." Duo defended the kids' mischief, happy to see them again. Catherine opened her apartment to Heero's camera lens, permitting him to photograph her and her children living in stark poverty. As Heero lost himself behind the camera, pointing and aiming, he listened to her story. How she will never qualify for citizenship due to her heritage, her only hope of becoming a citizen was marrying another. Her attempts left her with three broken hearts, and three children with different fathers. She was denied a work visa, making it illegal to work and unable to provide for her children. Catherine's frustration cracked her voice. Heero respectfully backed away, as Duo comforted her. He focused his camera on a large leak in the living room ceiling, seeping down the wall. He photographed a broken window which permitted a chilly draft to sweep through the living quarters, and the sorrowful few amount of toys scattered on the carpet.

"So what's going on with you and Trowa?" She asked surly and suddenly, pulling from Duo's embrace. Duo laughed awkwardly, and scratched the back of his head, faltering with an answer. Heero emboldened by his work, interrupted their conversation.

"Could you and your children stand over here?" Heero asked soberly.

"Certainly," Catherine answered, diverting her bitter glare from Duo. Heero directed to them to stand centered around the leak, crumbling the ceiling, browning the wall. Catherine held her youngest, whose small hands pawed his mother's hair. The small girl, stood timid behind her mother's leg. Her eldest son sat disinterested, roughly playing with a broken toy car. Catherine's eyes were piercing, her gaze manifested strife, anguish, and hunger. Heero lowered his camera, struck by the situation and her life, which he was about to put on display.

"Thank you." Heero muttered lowly, afflicted with guilt.

Duo escorted Heero home, in the same fashion as before. Sullenly Heero followed, distracted by all he had experienced. In the close crowded quarters of the bus, Duo urged quietly, "Hey, don't look so down. You're helping, right?" Heero regarded him transfixed, abruptly coveting the taller man's arm to enrapture him and hold him firm, distracting him from all he just witnessed. Heero removed his eyes from Duo's handsome face, focusing on the window, the cityscape creeping by.

Getting off the bus, Heero was surprised when Duo did so too, glancing back Duo was paying him no heed. He entered his apartment complex's foyer, leaving the door ajar. He did not look back upon entering the elevator. As the doors closed, Heero heard rapid footfalls, Duo charged in, sliding his frame between the doors.

"How would I know what apartment you live?" He asked with quicken breath, regarding the young photographer incredulously.

"I didn't think you'd follow" Heero admitted.

"I wanted to see the pictures." Duo spoke, which was true, but not entirely. Heero nodded, and when the heavy metal doors swept open, he led Duo to his apartment. Duo stepped in and chuckled.

"Can I have the number of your decorator?" Duo teased, and was disappointed his joke didn't inspire laughter, or even a smile. Instead Heero walked to his computer desk, and gingerly removed his camera, extracting the memory card. As Heero pulled up the photos on the computer screen, Duo paced the living room. Surveying the bare room, yet his eyes kept trailing back to Heero's youthful face, his wild hair, and his striking blue eyes. He felt a pang of shame and cursed Trowa's intuition. His former lover had not been questioning his command, rather he had been simply jealous.

"Come here." Heero spoke. Duo obeyed, and positioned himself behind Heero who sat at his desk. His attention on the computer screen, Duo was impressed by the image of Cathy and her children. The image of the family was powerful and telling.

"I will touch it up later." Heero mentioned idly, suddenly insecure, he wanted to please Duo with his work.

"It's really good." Duo spoke softly. Heero was keenly aware of Duo leaning over his shoulder, his presence was heavy. A rush of lust swept over his body, urging his mind to act, his body needing Duo's touch. Rashly Heero stood, bumping into Duo's chest which startled him. Duo took several steps back.

"Whoa, what's gotten into you?" Duo asked curiously. He watched Heero hesitate before approaching. Duo's posture tensed as Heero brashly grabbed the edges of his jacket, urging their bodies closer. "Oh." Duo whispered, taken back at the realization what Heero was doing, desperately attempting to resist the advances he craved. Heero nuzzled the taller's man neck, imposing a gentle kiss.

"You don't want to do this. I'm a dangerous man." He grimly informed the younger man who was caressing his chest. Heero was undaunted, and seductively gazed up at Duo. He could no longer resist, enticed by those electrifying blue eyes. He impulsively encircled Heero in his arms, hungrily kissing him. Heero was entranced; his lips reciprocated fully, relishing Duo's strength and passion. Heero smoothed his hands over Duo's back, plunging his fingertips down to the curve his ass. The sensation of cold hard steel met his fingertips, a 9mm was tucked into the back of Duo's jeans. Heero's recoiled, stumbling back. The gun bewildered him, taking him by surprise. Duo emitted a deep sigh.

"I told you." Duo offered soberly. Heero stood still, feeling foolish, direly wishing he hadn't acted so caught off guard. "I shouldn't get involved with you." Duo calmly admitted, sweeping his eyes over Heero once more before he proceeded to leave.

"Don't go." Heero asserted. But Duo was not persuaded. His front door reverberated in its frame and Heero was alone.

With his hands deep in his jacket pockets, Duo walked the length of the hall. His feet ceased moving, standing in the corridor, Duo swore under his breath. Tarrying in the hall, his resolve lapsed, snapping back, freeing his sharp pangs of lust. Swiftly, Duo proceeded back into his residence, abruptly entering, slamming the door behind him. Heero had not moved. Duo urgently advanced towards him, towards that confounding shade of blue. He greedily took Heero in his arms, meshing their mouths, kissing him in a frenzied passion.

* * *

It's cold and snowing thus I wanted to do is write and sleep. Thanks for the reviews and suggestions. This is long from over, I'll try to update within a week or so. Stay warm! Heart.


	4. It's Just a Touch

Duo forced his tongue into Heero's warm wet mouth, sliding it along its silken textures, tempting his teeth. He roughly grabbed the nape of Heero's neck, squeezing tightly. Duo had caught this lithe exquisite creature; he was not going to surrender him easily.

Heero squirmed under the older man's grip, fully reciprocating, artlessly groping his chest. Abruptly, Duo pushed Heero back, causing the shorter man to stumble. He leered at Heero hungrily, marveling at the luster in those blue eyes. Calmly Duo, removed his jacket and his 9mm, setting both on the coffee table. Aloofly he sat upon the couch, patting the empty cushion next to him, beckoning Heero. He tarried regarding Duo with keen intrigue but obeyed, stripping off his jacket, sweat-shirt and t-shirt, baring his taut chest.

Boldly he straddled Duo, lightly squeezing the older man's legs with his inner thighs. Each man's eyes locked into a fierce stare down, revealing their honest lust. Heero hardly knew this man, but since Duo had pulled his crumpled body off of the street's pavement he inexplicably thought about him constantly. Thoughts that gnawed at him, assuming they would never meet again. With his strong hands Duo grabbed Heero's bare waist, firmly holding him still. His gaze slid down his abdomen, snaring on dark bruises blossoming color over his flesh.

"You took quite beating – lucky I saw you." Duo muttered lowly. Heero emitted a humming noise, tracing his fingers over the tresses of Duo's lanky braid, leaning in to nuzzle his neck. Greedily Heero pressed his lips on the tender skin Duo's neck, imposing a kiss before suckling on the soft tissue. Without thinking, Duo leaned back emitting guttural moan, relishing in the unfurling pleasure as he smoothed his thumb over the sharp contour of Heero's hip.

The sudden realization of what the young man was doing spurred Duo to snarl and abruptly swat Heero from his neck.

"Don't-- you are going to bruise me up." Duo vexed, triggering Heero to recoil chagrinned with a frown stretched over his mouth. Duo lifted his brow, eyeing the younger man's dejected expression. Still a boy Duo thought, eager to please and lacking finesse. Duo could not repress a chuckle which only contorted Heero's featured into indignation.

"Aw, c'mon baby." Duo smoothly uttered, a grin plastered over his lips. Mockingly Duo pouted his lips, eyeing the man in his lap, making Heero to glare. Roughly Duo urged Heero to stand. Yet as Heero made motions to walk away with a wounded ego Duo outstretched his hands, and pulled Heero back in his lap so they were no longer facing. He held Heero secure within arms, barring his struggle to get up.

"Where do you think you're going?" Duo whispered next to Heero's ear causing Heero's posture to stiffen. Slowly Heero relaxed, denying his screaming machismo. His ego was hushed as Duo artfully traced his fingers up Heero's arms, and shoulders, leering at the youthful skin on an athletic frame. In his thirty-six years, he never fathomed that he would delight in such a body again. Tightly he grabbed Heero's shoulders and steadily began to massage the flesh, feeling Heero's muscle go lax under his kneading fingers. Duo placed calculated kisses on the nape of Heero's neck, nipping at the skin gently. The younger man writhed under Duo's hands and mouth, mustering an airy groan.

One hand clutching Heero's shoulder, his other hand smeared down Heero's abdomen, hitching his thumb on his jeans, tugging on the denim. Heero hissed out a breath as Duo's lips placed slow moist kisses on his shoulder's blades. A smirk curled the edges of Duo's lips as he quickly grabbed Heero's swollen crotch, stroking the contours trapped by the thick cotton.

"Stop –I." Heero blurted out. Duo pursed his lips in thought, a boy indeed, but a boy captivated with him. The sentiment was mutual. Duo released his groin and gently kissed his cheek. Awkwardly with Heero in his lap, he kicked off his shoes and then urged their bodies to lie on the couch, Duo spooning him protectively.

He felt guilty, delighting in such pleasure, knowing the country and his city still cried. But Duo could not forsake the simple comfort he felt hugging on this beautiful boy. They laid there in silence, afraid that the moment would escape them if they spoke or moved.

How much time that had lapsed before he heard Duo's soft snores, Heero was not certain. But he was restless, his libido still afire. Still and quiet he remained posed, waiting until he felt confident Duo was soundly asleep. Delicately he removed his frame from under Duo's arm and off the span of the couch then promptly headed to the bathroom to masturbate.

Emerging from the bathroom only clad in his boxer-briefs, with the same caution Heero returned his body to the older man's side only causing Duo to shift and emit an airy sigh.

He awoke in the morning light, perplexed to find Heero in his underwear. Jolting the haze from his mind still clouded by sleep, he racked his memories to recall why Heero would be nearly naked, coming up with no explanation. Duo shook his head, he needed to leave. He hadn't meant to fall asleep there, he hadn't meant to go after Heero, or be charmed by him. Surely Trowa would give him hell when he returned. Grabbing Heero's waist, he shook him lightly.

"Hey- I need to get going." Duo spoke lowly, rousing Heero slowly. Heero blinked his eyes several times as he awoke.

"Oh, okay," Heero muttered; sleep still heavy in his tone. Sluggishly he sat up and stood, stretching his arms in a large gesture. Duo leered with a smile, witnessing the young muscles flex. He stood behind Heero, and hugged him loosely.

"I-" He faltered, suddenly the situation became awkward. He did not want to promise the younger man anything he couldn't fulfill. His smile became sullen as he embraced Heero tighter, "I hope to see you again."

Duo sat on the edge of the coffee table and quickly pulled on his boots. Heero sauntered to the kitchen, putting on a pot of coffee, eyeing Duo throw on his jacket and tuck his 9mm into his the waist of his jeans. After dressing Duo followed and boyishly rapped his knuckles on the countertop before Heero when he did not know how to say good-bye, giving him a sidelong glance. Rashly he pulled Heero into his arms and kissed him full on the lips. Half-heartedly Heero reciprocated, but took a step back, staring up at Duo. Heero could not place his feelings, but the night only left more to be desired and no promise of it being fulfilled.

"Take care. You have my number—and know where I live." Heero stated soberly. Duo grinned, and ruffled the top of Heero's head. Cheerily he gave Heero a nod and causal salute then made his exit.

Heero crossed his arms over his bare chest. He could not shake the feeling that he had only embarrassed himself and that he would never see that man again. As the robust smell of coffee wafted through the apartment, Heero eyed his computer; glad he at least got some intriguing shots. A frown pulled at his mouth; the thought that Duo had only sought him out for coverage of non-citizens perturbed him, perhaps making Duo go so far to patronize his desires.

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**Been forever, but this story is not dead yet! Trowa angst to follow. Mwah.**


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